


The End of All Things

by guitarriffs (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Castiel & Charlie Bradbury Friendship, Destiel - Freeform, Doctor Castiel, F/F, Light Angst, M/M, Mechanic Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4186662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/guitarriffs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You should probably tell them to change your name from Dr. Winchester to Dr. Novak," Gabriel then says, nonchalantly. Castiel looks over to his brother, a frown playing at his lips. Gabriel catches him staring and shrugs, as if his words contained no loaded meaning. "You know- just so no one mixes you up with the other, not-as-brilliant Winchester."</p><p>"Sam Winchester is a lawyer, not a doctor."</p><p>Gabriel groans, not able to keep up his calm façade. "Jesus, Castiel! It's been five years, when can I be allowed to curse that family to the deepest pit of purgatory for tearing out my brother's heart and feeding it to the piranhas?"</p><p>"Never, Gabriel. And they didn't tear my heart out." Even as Castiel speaks the words, he knows they are a lie. That family really was the death of him, and it takes every ounce of his being not to wish bad luck on the one that had taken five years of their lives and thrown it back in his face in a poorly written Post-It note.</p><p>But he didn't. Not once did he tell Dean Winchester to fuck off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End of All Things

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever and a day ago but just found it in my iCloud. I *think* I edited it, but if you find any mistakes, feel free to tell me and I'll correct it.
> 
> xx

_In these coming years, many things will change. But the way I feel will remain the same. - Panic! At The Disco  
_

* * *

 

"Dr. Winchester, you have been cordially invited to speak at this year's Advancements In Medical Arts, or AIMA Ceremony on the twelfth of December. The event is being held at Jordan Hall at eight-thirty p.m. You are expected to wear black-tie formal and are allowed to bring any friends and family." Gabriel looks up from the fancy letter Castiel had handed him seconds earlier. "I hope to all Hell that I am invited."

Castiel rolls his eyes at his brother's utter lack of regard for what the letter actually means. "And there it goes," he says, looking up at the bar ceiling as if there was something flying above.

"What?" Gabriel matches his gaze.

"The point, you idiot. AIMA chose me to speak at their ceremony! Me, out of every surgeon in the Midwest."

Gabriel quirks his eyebrow as he takes a sip from his bottle of beer. He was used to Castiel's utter sarcasm by now. Castiel wasn't always so impatient with his brother's ways, but then again he hasn't really been the same for the past five years. "If you're trying to, once again, pretend like you're not brilliant enough to deserve this award, you can leave me out of it."

"I mean, yeah." Castiel pauses, fingers absentmindedly playing with the label of his own beer bottle. "I'm good at what I do, but I never thought I was AIMA good."

Gabriel shakes his head, obviously astounded at how far his brother's modesty was able to go. He slings his arm around Castiel's shoulders and pulls the two of them closer together. "What did you think was going to happen? You'd just design a perfect artificial brain, basically play the role of fucking God, and figure you wouldn't be rewarded for it? Cas, I'm positive you could cure cancer and still insist you have the IQ of a ladybug."

Castiel chuckles, almost nervously, and takes a long gulp of his beer. "It was far from perfect. Effective yes, but the nerve endings are still far from-"

"You saved three people who went into brain death," Gabriel reminds him. "No, they can't walk but at least they're still alive. If you ask me, AIMA should be giving you a lab at Stanford so you can play Dr. Frankenstein all day."

Castiel can't help but laugh at that. He never considered himself to be particularly genius material, but he knew how to get the job done. After medical school at Columbia ten years ago, he went straight into work at a teaching hospital in Lawrence, Kansas, moved up the ranks until he became Chief of Neurosurgery, and moved to a bigger city with more opportunities four years ago: Overland Park. With his time at Overland Hospital, he spent a little over three years designing what was supposed to be an artificial brain with his colleague, Dr. Crowley. A year ago, they entered the final stages and hosted clinical trials to perfect their prototypes. So far, all eight people involved, including four with beginning stages of brain cancer, three who were in danger of and went into brain death, and one who had been showing very early signs of Alzheimers all live on, healthy (except for the three people who have irreparable nerve damage from the waist down) and happy. Crowley had also gotten his official letter earlier in the day, and was as equally excited at the recognition. Which was an odd reaction to get from Crowley, anyway.

"You should probably tell them to change your name from Dr. Winchester to Dr. Novak," Gabriel then says, nonchalantly. Castiel looks over to his brother, a frown playing at his lips. Gabriel catches him staring and shrugs, as if his words contained no loaded meaning. "You know- just so no one mixes you up with the other, not-as-brilliant Winchester."

"Sam Winchester is a lawyer, not a doctor."

Gabriel groans, not able to keep up his calm façade. "Jesus, Castiel! It's been five years, when can I be allowed to curse that family to the deepest pit of purgatory for tearing out my brother's heart and feeding it to the piranhas?"

"Never, Gabriel. And they didn't tear my heart out." Even as Castiel speaks the words, he knows they are a lie. That family really was the death of him, and it takes every ounce of his being not to wish bad luck on the one that had taken five years of their lives and thrown it back in his face in a poorly written Post-It note.

But he didn't. Not once did he tell Dean Winchester to fuck off.

"Come on, Cas. You can't even get your legal name back. Not only did the bastard decide to just walk out on you, but he essentially said, 'Well, you know what would be the ultimate douchebag move? Not having the balls to get a divorce and ridding you of my last name.'"

"It's fine," Castiel repeats, though it's not. It doesn't take a therapist- one that Gabriel and Charlie both insisted Cas go see after several months of depressed moping, to realize the situation was still very not okay. "Castiel Winchester. Has a nice ring to it."

Gabriel snorted. "Yeah-fucking-right. Whatever, Cas. Whatever floats your boat. I'm still proud of you, though."

He leaned in for a hug and Castiel accepted it, patting his brother's back twice before letting go and giving him a half-smile. "And yes, you can come to the ceremony."

* * *

"I'm ho-!" Castiel begins loudly as he steps through his house's front door, but is quickly shushed as Charlie appears from the living room archway, index finger pressed to pursed lips. "God, I'm sorry. Is Claire asleep?"

Charlie nods and Cas thinks she's mad at him for staying out so late...that is, until her face breaks into a wide grin and she hurries toward him.

"So, I heard the good news!" She exclaims, but in a tone lower than Castiel initially used. "You and Crowley, finally recognized for being the amazing people you two are."

Castiel laughs lowly and kicks off his shoes. "Who told you?"

"Gabriel just texted me," she admits, much to Cas' lack of surprise.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot who I was dealing with." He takes off his jacket, hangs it on the coat hooks by the door, and follows Charlie into the living room. "So, how was your day?"

Charlie works for a engineering corporation called Intellect Corp, coding websites, apps, and the occasional slightly-illegal hacking endeavor. She did it a lot more before Claire was born, but with the responsibility of a child came the knowledge that she'd have to spend the next eighteen years of her life out of legal trouble.

Claire Novak-Bradbury is Castiel's and Charlie's legal and genetic child. Six years ago, before everything in Cas' life changed, Dean and Castiel decided that they were ready to raise a kid. It wasn't a very hard decision and most of the plan was set out almost instantly: Charlie Bradbury, the best friend of the both of them who also wanted a child, was to carry the baby and co-parent. Castiel would donate his sperm, which was something Dean insisted since Cas had so willingly taken his last name when they had gotten married. It wouldn't be until a year later that Charlie would actually be artificially inseminated.

But then, a month into the pregnancy, Dean was gone and left Castiel and Charlie to parent the daughter that would come into the world eight months later. They had to go to court to erase all custodial claims Dean held to Claire and that was it. Claire was- is admittedly Castiel's saving grace. The day Charlie visited him in his old apartment, five months pregnant and bearing a string of ultrasound pictures was when Castiel finally got his shit together, threw out all of the things Dean didn't take with him when he left, and bought this house.

"Eh, boring more or less," Charlie admits, slumping against the sofa and continuing to watch the rerun of Doctor Who that was playing on BBC America. "Claire painted a picture at day care."

"Really?" He sees the portrait pinned to the fridge door and smiles. It's classic Claire-style; lots of colors, lots of disarray, but lots of consideration. The way she mixes her tones and arranges her shapes are- it sounds weird, but actually enchanting. He loves watching his daughter create art. "Have you talked to Gilda?"

Castiel immediately feels eyes on him after he mentions Charlie's girlfriend (or, after recent developments, ex-girlfriend). He avoids her eyes and pretends, just as Gabriel had done earlier, that his comment wouldn't plunge them into a deeper conversation.

"No," she finally replies after several moments of silence. "If she can't accept you and Claire, she can't accept me. Plain and simple."

Cas raises his eyebrows and leans across the bar that separated the living room and the kitchen. "I don't want to be the reason why you can't have a relationship."

"You and Claire," Charlie reiterates. "And if we're talking about relationships, lets recount the last time you got laid."

Castiel sticks out his tongue at Charlie, as they both know that the conversation ended there. She also sticks out her tongue, averting her attention from the TV screen once again to engage in what could be described as behavior unsuitable for two people who are supposed to be parenting a four-year-old.

* * *

"Alison, this is Dr. Winchester and he will be the one dissecting your tumor this afternoon."

Castiel looks up and over his rectangular-framed glasses, taking a small window of time to stop studying Alison Chen's file and greet his new patient with a friendly smile. He takes a sip of bitter, yet effective coffee as his colleague, Dr. Anna Milton, continues to fill the woman in.

"At least he's handsome," Alison says, more than a little nervous for her operation. Cas can't really blame her: removing brain tumors are always tricky and never really rids the patient of the cancer.

Anna looks over toward Castiel as if she expects him to correct Alison's worries, but as she realizes he holds no intentions to, she does for him. "No need to worry Ms. Chen. I can assure you, Dr. Winchester is one of the best neurosurgeons in the tristate area. You couldn't be in better hands."

She nods, the information bringing her very little comfort, and Castiel continues to read on his patient. However, he finds it very hard to concentrate, as Gabriel's comments come back to mind. It couldn't be a more inconvenient time to think about Dean Winchester and all that had happened in the past half-decade, but of course Castiel chooses that exact moment to allow memories to flood back. It's very choking, and Castiel wishes he'd just forget it all, but it's hard to do that when the one that makes you want to jump off of a building gave you your last name.

Is still married to you.

Each day, Castiel waits. If it's consciously or subconsciously, he just waits for Dean to slip up. For him to fuck up his credit or accidentally call him in the middle of the night. Anything, so that Cas' last memory isn't a kiss goodnight and, nine hours later, a yellow Post-It note that says a feeble:

I'm sorry. Don't look for me.

He needs something that could just drive Castiel over the edge and make him hate him like he's supposed to. It drives him nuts, not knowing what could've possibly made Dean leave after two years of marriage and a grand total of five years together. He's finally settled on the guess that Dean couldn't possibly fathom the responsibility of a kid, one that wasn't genetically his at that, and decided to take his chances elsewhere.

"Dr. Winchester? Castiel?"

Anna is snapping her fingers in front of Cas' face, trying to get his attention. He finally blinks away his thoughts and stares at the other doctor as if he's just now seeing her.

"I'm...uh, sorry. I think we need stronger coffee."

"Or you need to go to sleep at night," Anna jokes and Alison laughs along. Castiel forces out a smile, not trying to make anyone uncomfortable, but he feels the incessant pounding in his head that marks the beginning of a very long, and very miserable day.

* * *

Since Castiel had booked a ten hour shift, he gets off at seven that night. It is a reasonable time, nothing like the midnight or two a.m. times he sometimes tends to get off on, but he is still exhausted. He had done a seven-hour neurosurgery for Alison Chen and spent the rest of his shift doing paperwork behind a desk. His day had been terrible so far, and the only thing he could hold on to was the fact that he, Charlie, and Claire are all supposed to make vegetarian lasagna for dinner. Claire loves to cook the healthy dish and Castiel loves to spend time with his family, so if anything could be a day-saver, this would be it.

"Hello?" Castiel gets a call as he makes his way out of the hospital's front entrance and into the parking lot.

"Hey Cas, what are you doing tonight?" Comes Gabriel's familiar voice from the other end of the line. Surprisingly, Castiel doesn't mind his brother calling. Usually, he only finds annoyance in Gabe's constant check-ups, but at that moment it was considered a distraction from the shit day he was having.

"Cooking. Why, do you want to come over?"

"Why the hell not? Pick me up at my firm in ten?"

"Sure." Castiel hangs up. Gabriel, though as goofy as he can be, is co-partner in a successful firm called Novak & Evan. He is really good at what he does and, unlike Castiel, likes to boast about it a lot.

Castiel is in front of the firm building downtown in fifteen minutes and Gabriel is already waiting for him. He quirks his eyebrow as he pulls up and opens the door to the passenger side.

"Five minutes late," he comments and Cas rolls his eyes. Gabriel tosses his briefcase in the backseat and shuts the door.

"There was traffic," he reminds him and starts into the crowded road once again. Castiel isn't as impatient with evening traffic as most people are. He actually enjoys sitting in his car, with his radio on low, leaving himself to his thoughts. And, in this case, doesn't mind Gabriel talking in his ear.

It isn't long before traffic picks up and he is able to go more than three feet without having to stop. Cas hits the freeway, only half-listening to Gabriel's ramblings when Charlie calls. He routes her call through his car's stereo so he could talk without actually having to hold his phone.

"Hey, is everything alright?" He asks, and Gabriel raises the volume on the stereo so they can hear her better.

"It depends...what is alright to you?"

Castiel creases his eyebrows, not certain of what she means. "Is Claire okay?" He begins, his breath catching in his chest as everything that could've went wrong flashes in his mind. "Did something happen?"

"What? Oh no, sorry, Claire's fine. She's staying at your sister's for the night."

Gabriel speaks up at that. "Hannah? Really? I thought she doesn't like to babysit."

"And I thought tonight is family night." There it is again...the pounding in his head that Cas gets every time he can tell something's wrong. "What happened, Charlie?"

"Just...uh, come home. Gabriel's there, right? Bring him, too."

She hangs up without so much as a parting word, and Castiel and Gabriel exchange a suspicious look.

"Maybe she killed someone," Gabriel says with a dry laugh. "I always thought Charlie had it in her."

"You're not funny, Gabe," Castiel replies tightly. Because yes, he is worrying. And yes, he is expecting the worst.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Castiel pulls up behind Charlie's black Chevy and quickly gets out of the car. Gabriel follows suit, knowing that his brother's anxiety levels are skyrocketing and that he wouldn't be able to calm down until he knows that everyone is fine. Anxiety is also something that has developed in the past half-decade. Castiel is a pro at worrying, and is even better at blaming himself whenever anything goes wrong.

"Calm down, Cas," Gabriel says as Castiel fumbles in his pocket for his keys. "Charlie is probably exaggerating the situation. You know how she can get."

No, Castiel does not know how she can get. Truthfully, Charlie Bradbury is one of the most chill people he knows, and is usually there to simmer him down whenever he gets worked up.

And maybe this is one of those times. Maybe he's just freaking out for no reason. He tends to do that a lot, unless he's at work that is (he can't very well be a surgeon if he panics every time the monitor beeps or the patient goes into v-fib). So, he takes a deep breath and turns to his brother.

"You're right. I'm just really tired and I've had a really crap day. Maybe she got back together with Gilda and wants to get married."

Gabriel waves his hand in a wide gesture, acknowledging that what he said was completely valid. "Maybe! Maybe the government finally caught up to her hacking."

Castiel stares at him, not finding his comment amusing. "Why do I keep you around?"

"Because you love me," he taunts and Castiel finally finds his keys and opens the door.

Gabriel walks on without Cas, who hangs his jacket on the coat hook and locks the door behind him. He sees Gabriel disappear into the living room and, a couple of moments later, hears very crude cursing.

Castiel, curious as to what has riled Gabriel up, walks through the hallway and into the living room, where he sees Charlie leaning against the kitchen's bar and Gabriel standing by the entrance archway. "What is i-"

His heart stops.

There is a deafening silence as Castiel freezes in every way imaginable and takes in the supposed exaggerated situation. What is supposed to be Charlie, just making things seem worse than they actually are, is not Charlie just making things seem worse than they actually are.

Because the situation was nothing that had even crossed Castiel's mind.

"Hi Cas," Dean says, rising from his position on the couch; same couch Castiel and Claire sit on to watch cartoons in the morning. The same couch Charlie, Castiel, and Gabriel joke around about anything in the evening, usually accompanied by a bottle of wine.

Castiel's head is spinning and he can barely see him properly. He's dreamt of this moment for years, made up the words he'd say when he finally saw Dean again. And he'd always imagine Dean as looking tired and distraught, pissed at himself for leaving all that he had left behind.

But Dean Winchester looks perfectly fine. He is wearing a clean pair of blue jeans and a plaid flannel, concealed by a leather jacket. His hair is grown out a bit- not as long as Sam's, but still long enough to be combed back into a quiff at the front.

He doesn't even look sad. He is wearing a half-smile that Castiel vaguely remembers to be endearing. But that was the past, and the present is not nearly as bright.

"Don't," Castiel finally says, gripping the edge of the archway to steady himself. With his other hand, he points a threatening finger at the other man. "Don't you dare."

Whatever is left of Dean's smile is gone and he idly itches at his elbow. "Cas-."

"Don't call me that."

Dean sucks in his cheek, not able to meet Castiel's eyes. He must have thought this would be easy, Cas realizes in astonishment. He must have thought that I would see him and I would cave, and cry, and forget the emotional torment he's put me through.

"Okay. Castiel, we need to talk."

Castiel snorts and looks toward Gabriel, who has a disbelieving smile on his face. But Cas, knowing how Gabriel feels toward the entire ordeal, knows he is probably thinking of one hundred and one ways he could express his frustration. "Oh, do we?" He crosses his arms across his chest.

Charlie, sensing that Castiel is simply about to lose it, intervenes. "Uh, Cas, Dean's just here to ask for something."

"He wants to ask me for something? As if I owe him anything?"

"Something that will benefit both of you, Cas. Just hear him out."

Castiel wipes his hand over his mouth in a feeble attempt to calm down and possibly, just possibly let Dean say whatever the hell he had to say. He nods a 'go on' in his direction and Dean lets out a breath.

"Okay. So, I want a divorce."

A divorce, Castiel mentally reiterates, not really being able to process what the other man is saying. A divorce. "Just out of the blue? You haven't said two words to me in five years, and you show up on my doorstep asking for a divorce?"

Dean fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. He's nervous, which is a trait Castiel very rarely saw from him. When they were together all of those years ago, Dean exuded maximum confidence in who he was and what he did. It was one of the reasons Cas loved him.

Loved.

"Yeah, well, it seems time doesn't it?"

Castiel scoffs again, now more confused than upset. "Time? You act as if we had an argument, fought, mutually decided to spend time apart. What I want is an explanation. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Just...why Dean?"

Castiel doesn't know how to express it in any other way. Dean could explain any obvious question Cas has, he doesn't care. He just wants to know why.

Dean treks a hand through his hair, doing nothing but messing it up and making him seem more disgruntled; more of the Dean that Cas had been expecting to see when this day came. There were several moments of absolute silence and at one moment, Gabriel opens his mouth to say something. But Castiel clearly shoots him a 'Not the time' look.

Finally, Dean decides to say, "I met someone."

Oh.

Oh.

"You met someone?" Gabriel repeats, breaking his silence. "Are you joking?"

"Gabe..." Charlie begins, but he puts his index fingers up in her direction.

"No, Char, how can you just sit by and listen to this? You saw Cas after Dean left all of those years ago. We were the ones who had to pick up the pieces."

"It's not our fight," Charlie says softly, coming out from behind the bar and making her way to Gabriel. She puts her hand on his arm and guides him out of the living room. But, before she leaves completely, she touches Cas on the shoulder and gives him a look meant to steady him.

But it doesn't. He feels sick to his stomach and suddenly, he doesn't want closure. He'd take seven hours of neurosurgery and shitty days and shitty years of never seeing his husband again over this.

"It was a one-night stand," Dean continues, stepping toward Cas. He doesn't react, though. He's aware of the slight nodding of his head, but can't seem to gather the energy to step backward or, preferably, punch him in the face. "Her name is Lisa and it was a one-night stand eight years ago and-"

"Wait, Lisa?" Castiel knows who Lisa is. Of course he knows who Lisa is. He vividly remembers their first big fight eight years ago, two years into their relationship. Dean had gone to some bar to celebrate gaining ownership over an auto shop in Lawrence that he'd worked at for years and slept with some girl. He'd felt guilty and confessed immediately, though the confession soon turned into an accusation that Castiel wasn't putting as much effort into the relationship as Dean was. They'd taken a break, at Castiel's 'suggestion,' for five months until they both grew tired of not being together. "You left me, no explanation for the same Lisa that you thought showed more affection in twenty minutes than I did in two years?"

"She...she had this kid named Ben."

And it all comes together. Why he left, why he left a half-assed note. Why he wants a divorce. That was what hurt most of all, that he obviously wants a divorce because Lisa probably wants to get married.

Castiel put that thought to the back of his mind.

"He's mine."

"Did you get a paternity test?"

"I never needed to. The dates matched up, I believe her."

"That is..." Castiel pauses to control his breathing. "You left at the possibility that you could make a family with a girl you barely know who says she had your child? While you had a perfectly fine family with your husband a child that you knew would be yours?"

"So Charlie had an abortion then?"

"No! Charlie did not have an abortion! Our daughter is at my sister's right now because Charlie does not want her to see you, the Dad she could have had if he hadn't of walked out."

"Cas..." Dean begins again, and Castiel cuts him off.

"Do not call me that," Castiel hisses, and steps forward so he could see Dean face to face. "I will have Gabriel run up the divorce papers and after that, you can take your non-marital status and go to hell."

Castiel turns his body as to demonstrate that he wants Dean to leave. Out of his peripherals, he sees him take a deep breath and give Cas a sad, apologetic smile. He is gone in seconds. But, only when Cas hears the door slam shut behind him does he move.

"You guys can come out now. I know you were listening," Castiel yells, emotionally drained and in desperate need of something to drink. Preferably hard and bitter.

"Sorry Cas," Charlie apologizes, giving Castiel a half-smile and a small pat on the shoulder. He just nods in her direction and leaves the living room for the kitchen, reaching up in the cupboard for a glass.

"Yeah," Gabriel promptly agrees. "I'll call my assistant and have him print out a couple of copies of the divorce papers. I'm guessing assets aren't anything you two need to go over?"

Cas pours out a small portion of scotch and takes a welcoming sip. "No, Dean made it very clear what he wanted five years ago."

* * *

"You look like shit," Anna declares as she meets Castiel right outside of the men's locker room in the East Wing of the hospital. He gives her a weary look and fastens his pager on the waistband of his black scrubs."

"Thanks Anna, and I hope one of those coffees is for me." He nods toward the two cups she is holding in her hands and raises an eyebrow. Anna grins back and raises one out to him.

"Of course, Dr. Novak. And if you want anything else-"

"Hannah told you?" Cas interrupts, immediately let on by the fact that she called him Dr. Novak instead of her usual Dr. Winchester.

"Hannah told me. But don't blame her! I came home from a late shift last night, saw a miniature human in our bed, and made her tell me why we were babysitting for the Novak-Bradburys."

"Yeah, well." They enter the main lobby of the building and go straight for the secretary's desk. Castiel's folder, marked Dr. Winchester, is unusually thin, but he's glad. Less patients mean less work, means less paperwork. He flips it open as Anna does the same, grabbing the manila folder that reads Dr. Milton. "Did you get a cardiac patient?

"I'm a cardiovascular surgeon, Castiel. What do you think I got, a kidney patient?"

"I meant, did you get a cardiac patient with an aneurysm?"

He takes a sip from his coffee (which Anna prepared perfectly, per usual) and waits for his colleague to check her list of patients. "Uh, yeah. Colleen Baker. Thirty-four, heart disease, brain aneurysm. Well well, Cas, I guess we'll be hanging out today."

"Sure, if you call hanging out five hours in an OR, over an unconscious woman with a hole in her skull and the better half of her chest split open."

Anna winks. "That sounds like my kind of party."

* * *

 

Since Castiel's shift ends at twelve, he decides to go down to Claire's prekindergarten to take her to lunch.

For a four-year-old, Claire is nothing short of wonderful. Then again, Cas may be biased seeing as she's his child, but he didn't care. She'd always succeed in making his day five times better by doing nothing but smiling or laughing at one of his lame jokes.

Claire takes a lot after her mother, in that she has bright red hair that neither Cas nor Charlie can ever tame (so they usually opt out for a ponytail or single braid. Today, it is a french braid over the shoulder) and a slightly-hooked nose. From Castiel, she gets his stunningly-blue eyes, that darken only whenever she's in a particularly bad mood.

"Hello Mr. Novak," Claire's Pre-K teacher, Mrs. Johnson greets as she sees him walking up the hall to their classroom. She's one of the only people that considers Castiel by his maiden name, mostly because it's Novak that's part of Claire's surname and there's really no need to explain to the four-year-old why her father has two last names.

Especially since I'm very close to just having one again, Cas thinks as he puts his hand out to shake Mrs. Johnson's. "Hi. Since this is generally the kids' lunch and recess time, I thought I could come and take Claire out for burgers."

Mrs. Johnson smiles and tucks a curly, black strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sure she'd love that. Give me a second."

The teacher disappears into the noisy classroom and Castiel patiently waits for his daughter. It is only a couple of minutes before she bounds out of the room, book bag bouncing behind her, and rushes into his arms.

"Daddy!" She exclaims, burying her face into his trench coat. They hadn't seen each other since yesterday morning, and they were both definitely missed.

  
"Hey honey." He squats down so he could see her face-to-face. "So, I told Mrs. Jackson that, in order to make up for missing veggie lasagna last night, I'd take you out for some burgers. Does that sound like fun?"

She nods vigorously. "Is Mommy going to be there?"

"No, Mommy has work. Is that alright?"  
  
Once again, Claire nods enthusiastically, not fazed by the fact that Charlie isn't going to join them. Claire has a general understanding of the relationship between the three of them, a conversation Castiel and Charlie had with her at the tender age of three. There was a lot of dumbing-it-down, but basically, because Charlie's relationship with her ex-girlfriend Gilda was growing more intense, and their family was unconventional in all senses of the word (especially in comparison to the families of the other kids at day care at the time), they gave Claire the gist of it: Mommy and Daddy are not married, but love each other very much. And, because Mommy likes girls and Daddy likes boys, sometimes Mommy will have a 'special' friend and (very, very unlikely, Castiel liked to point out) Daddy will have a 'special' friend. But none of this means Mommy and Daddy love you any less.

They left out the details of her conception, as that was a conversation they'd hoped they'd never have to have, but Claire, being the smart girl she is, understood. Mom and Dad are gay and love her very, very much.

Castiel and Claire leave the building and Claire grasps a hold of her father's hand as they cross the parking lot. Then, Cas unlocks the doors, straps Claire in the backseat, and gets into the driver's seat.

"So, where do you want to go?" He asks, starting the engine and looking at Claire through the rearview mirror.

"Uh...Uncle Roy's!" She exclaims, clapping her hands together at the thought. One of the reasons why he and Charlie moved to Overland Park from Lawrence all of those years ago was because one, Hannah and Gabriel lives here and two, Charlie was born here, meaning she has strong familial roots in the city.

Including her adoptive brother, Roy, who owns the biggest burger spot in town.

Since it's only a five-minute drive from the Pre-K and it was pre-lunch rush, they made it there in no time. It is a homely little place, which is a family eat-out during the day and an adult bar at night. A lot of times, he and Gabriel, sometimes accompanied by Charlie, Anna, and Hannah, would spend time there whenever Claire is being babysat by a relative or having a sleepover at a friend's house.

As they enter the building, a little bell chimes to announce their arrival. Roy Bradbury, who is wiping down the bar counter, looks up and a smile grows on his face as he sees who it is.

"Uncle Roy!" Claire exclaims as Roy rounds the counter and crouches down to allow the little girl to run unto his arms.

"Ah, my favorite niece! I was wondering when I'd see you again!" He picks her up effortlessly, as a consequence of how much he works out, and turns to greet Cas. "And Castiel, been a while since you've gotten a drink."

"Gabe and I went to try out another bar downtown a couple of days ago, but it wasn't as good as yours. We'll be back.

He presses his hand to his heart. "Oh, you flatter me." Cas chuckles as Roy puts Claire back onto the ground. "So, the regular? Two cheeseburgers, two orders of fries?"

  
"Make it one order of fries and two milkshakes," Castiel corrects. "We can share."

"Sure thing." Roy calls out to the chef in the kitchen and details their order while Castiel and Claire go to take their usual seat: a booth furthest from the bar.

"How's your morning?" Castiel asks, as Claire tries to get comfortable in her side of the booth. She can barely see over the table with her legs dangling, so she props her legs under her.

"Good. Auntie Anna made eggs and pancakes before school."

Cas nods slowly. Anna hadn't mentioned making breakfast, but then again she seemed more interested in talking about Dean Winchester, which was a topic he refused to pursue. Though, he's sure her wife filled her in on the basic details. Hannah was like that: she doesn't pry too much, but whenever she does find something out, she tends to always tell Anna. It'd be cute if it wasn't so annoying. "Really? Were they good?"

"Yeah, but not as good as Mommy's."

It's true. Charlie is a really good cook when she wants to be. The two of them had come to the general agreement during her third trimester: yes, she is the mother and Cas is the father, but there would be no 'gender roles.' Charlie would not quit her job and Castiel would not quit his job. For the first three years, they alternated between the two of them, taking months off at a time. It wasn't really a problem, since they both made a reasonable amount of money and both worked at places where the situation was understood. Then, once Claire was old enough for day care and pre-school, they both went into work full-time.

"Be sure to tell Mommy that, then," he says as he whispers and begins to lean in across the table. Claire strains to lean in too, a wide grin on her face. "She likes to hear that she's better than everyone else."

Claire laughs loudly and brightly and Castiel sits back, content with himself. He's never doubted his ability in parenting, and loved to see that he makes his child happy.

Five minutes later, the waitress, another family friend named Jo Harvelle, appears with two trays in hand.

"Two burgers, pickles for the little one, with one bowl of fries and two milkshakes!" She smiles warmly at the two of them as she slides the platters onto the table. Claire, who'd had milkshakes at Roy's a countless number of times, has whipped cream and bright red cherry on top while Castiel has whipped cream and sprinkles.

"Thanks Jo," Cas says.

"No problem, hon. Enjoy your food." She disappears into the kitchen and leaves Castiel and Claire to their own devices.

The first couple of minutes are silent as Claire starts to messily eat her small burger. Cas, whose mind is suddenly elsewhere, plays with a single fry he took from the basket in the middle of the table and slowly drinks his shake.

Once Castiel finally comes back from his thoughts, Claire is now attacking her milkshake, swirling her straw around so the cherry gradually sinks to the bottom of the tall glass. As she sips vigorously, Castiel realizes the door's bell is ringing again and a family of three is entering the restaurant.

"Are you okay, Daddy? You look like my cherry." Claire sticks her fingers in her milkshake to fish for her cherry, and Castiel doesn't even have the mindset to tell her to stop. Because, the previously mentioned 'family of three,' consisted of a brunette in her early thirties with a ring on her finger, a boy of about eight or nine, and Dean.

As Claire pointed out, Castiel had gone dangerously red and averts his eyes to prevent himself from staring. Claire is still digging around in her shake and looks victorious as she finally catches it by the stem and pulls it out, holding her sticky fingers and milk-and-ice cream-covered cherry to her father. "Here, Daddy. You can have it."

"Thank you, sweetie." He takes it and eats it instantly, needing to chew on something to calm his nerves. He isn't supposed to see Dean again, not until they've signed their dues and part ways for the last time. So, naturally, Cas isn't prepared for whatever ordeal is going to come out of this encounter. "Are you done with your food?"

"Not yet." She sticks her fingers in her mouth and sucks on them, getting the milkshake off of her fingers. "Do you want your burger?"

Castiel raises his eyebrows, surprised that his four-year-old daughter could eat two burgers and drink a full milkshake in one sitting. "You can have it."

He pushes it over to her, and is so intrigued at Claire's eating abilities (that she most definitely inherited from Charlie) that he doesn't notice the looming shadow over their table.

Claire looks up first as she dips a fry in her shake and waves a pleasant hand in greeting. "Hello."

Then Castiel turns his head upward and all the color drains from his face. It is Dean, of course, with the two people (who he assumes too be Lisa and Ben) sitting at a table in the middle of the restaurant. "Not here, not now," he says harshly, grateful that Claire went back to concentrating on her eating.

But Dean isn't focused on Castiel at all...he's staring right at Claire, which only frustrates Cas. He's too tired to be angry and doesn't need a repeat of last night. "She has your eyes," Dean says, in a tone Cas could mistake as sad. But, he doesn't want to. He can't. Because Dean isn't sad, nor is he regretful. He is here, with his fiancée and son and he's happy with the both of them.

"Yeah, well, it happens," Castiel replies dryly. Claire then looks back up, her mouth stuffed with a quarter of Cas' burger.

"Are you a friend of my Dad's?" She asks, in a classic kid-innocence voice. Castiel's chest tightens, because this definitely wasn't supposed to happen. Claire wasn't supposed to meet Dean, she wasn't even supposed to know Dean exists. At least, not until she's in her twenties and they can laugh about how much it all sucks.

Dean gives her a look that could accompany the tone he had earlier, along with a small smile. "I used to be. A very long time ago."

"Well, nice to meet you. My name is Claire."

She puts out her hand and Castiel swallows as Dean takes it and shakes it once.

"Nice to meet you Claire, my name is Dean."

Finally, Dean's attention strays from Cas' daughter and he drops his voice to a low mutter. "We need to talk."

"We already talked," Castiel replies. "You explained, I listened, we get a divorce. What else is there to discuss."

"I just..." Dean sighs and itches his clavicle. There it is again, that out-of-character nervousness. "Can we talk? Just you and I? I'll be here tonight."

Castiel thinks it over for a moment. It is a bad idea. Like, a really bad idea. Because none of this was part of the plan, the scenes Castiel plays over and over in his head. Dean's not supposed to be engaged, with a kid. He's not supposed to meet Claire. Castiel is supposed to be very, very angry. And they're not supposed to talk over drinks.

Nothing was going to plan. Yet, the yes still tumbles out of Cas' mouth before he even realizes what he's agreed to and, before Dean can nod his thanks and shuffle back to his booth with his fiancée and child, he adds, "I'll bring the papers."

"Yes. You should probably do that."

* * *

"This is idiotic," Hannah says, patronizing as always as Castiel tugs on his shoes. "You know it is."

Hannah, Gabriel, Charlie, and Cas are all in the living room, talking in a group as Claire watches her cartoons on the TV. Castiel's mind hasn't changed about going to the bar, much to his siblings' dismay.

"Yeah, I'll have to agree with our sister, Cas," Gabriel chimes in. "Which, you know, is a rare occurrence since she's usually wrong."

Hannah, in retaliation, hits Gabriel with a pillow and he just gives her a bright smile. Charlie glares at the two of them before turning to Castiel.

"Don't listen to them," she says, leaning off of the couch to pat his knee encouragingly. "I think you should do it."

"That's stupid, don't do it," Gabriel interrupts and Charlie gets upset.

"You two aren't the ones who's had to live with him!" She exclaims, and, as she realizes there's a child in the vicinity, she lowers her voice. "He is miserable, guys, he has been since Dean's left. What he needs is closure, and the two of them yelling at each other is not closure. What happened between them last night was not closure. So, unless you want to serve those divorce papers, Gabriel, and have Castiel wallow in his own metaphorical shit for the rest of his life because Dean is somehow the 'One That Got Away,' I suggest you let him do this and return home better and back to the Castiel Novak we knew five, six years ago."

Hannah is speechless, probably because Cas knew she knew Charlie is completely right. Gabriel purses his lips and hands Castiel the thin folder with the divorce contract inside. "Read it together," he says. "If you need a lawyer, which I don't think you do because Dean put you in enough shit to even entertain the fact of screwing you over, you can call me and Dean can call Sam. You both have to sign where I indicated with Post-It notes, bring it back to me, I copy the form, send it to a state judge, and voila. You can finally be referred to as Dr. Novak and Dean can go back to cozying up to whatever broad he has on his arm."

"Gabriel. Don't be rude."

"I hate your moral capacity, brother."

* * *

Castiel finds himself on a barstool at Roy's bar, nervously tapping his finger on the side of his beer. There was no set time for the arrangement, so he doesn't know when he can officially declare Dean late and back out of the entire thing.

"Waiting for Gabriel?" Roy asks, pouring out a beer on tap for another customer. Cas shakes his head.

"No. Someone else."

He raises his brow. "Oh, so a date? Who's the lucky girl?"

Castiel looks up at him from under his eyelashes, trying not to be annoyed. He usually doesn't care if anyone mixes up his sexuality, especially since he isn't especially public with it, but the nerves mixed with the fact that Roy is Charlie's brother for god's sake, makes him sharply retort, "I'm gay."

Roy's mouth opens in remembrance. "Ah, yes! Sorry, I'm a bit out of my mind today."

Cas sighs. "No, it's fine. It happens."

"So...who's the lucky guy?"

"There's no-"

But, he's cut off by a hand on his shoulder and a softly-spoken Cas.

Castiel whips his head around, a little startled, and his heart doesn't stops racing as he sees it's Dean.

"Sorry, Castiel," he corrects himself as he takes a seat beside him and asks Roy for exactly what Cas was having. Roy raises his eyebrow at Castiel, no doubt recognizing Dean from earlier when he was having lunch with his family, but Cas avoids his stare.

He takes a necessary gulp of his beer and slides the folder Gabriel gave him across the counter so Dean could see. "We're supposed to read this together," he says blandly, repeating what his brother told him earlier.

Dean looks down at the manila file for a moment before taking it and pushing it to the side. "That's not why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"It's not." Dean scoots his stool closer to Castiel, and Cas grits his teeth together, not really appreciating the lack of distance. "I want to explain myself."

"You already did," Cas replies shortly. "You did and I listened, and now I'm giving you what you want."

Dean doesn't reply to that. He simply leans away and sticks his hand in his jacket pocket, seemingly looking for something. He finds it- his wallet- and flips it open. He then slides a picture out and faces it toward Castiel. Cas finally looks up to see what Dean could possibly be showing him that could 'explain' any of this.

It was a picture of Ben and Lisa.

"How cute," Castiel mutters. "You keep a photo of your family in your wallet. So?"

Dean creases his brow and looks at what he is showing the other man. He takes in a sharp breath. "Oh, no, I meant..."

Castiel looks on as he rests the Lisa and Ben photo on the countertop and slides out another, slightly larger picture.

"Here," Dean says, handing it to him and taking a drink of his beer.

Castiel takes the picture gingerly and his breath catches in his throat as he sees what it is of. "Is this a joke?" He asks, grinding his teeth together as he swallows hard.

"No, Cas."

Castiel doesn't even bother to correct him, he's so shocked at what he's holding. It's old, that much he knows, because he remembers when it was taken. Ten years ago, their first date. It wasn't really a date, as they had just gone to some grimy arcade in the middle of Lawrence. It was so bad that Cas had asked himself several times why he had decided to go on an impromptu date with someone he had met in the hospital of all places.

The saving grace of the night was the photo booth. It was at least fifteen years old at the time and smelled desperately of old shoes and popcorn, but it was fun. They spent at least an hour in there, bunched together like sardines in a can, and taking the silliest of pictures. It got a little more intense to the end, as hands started roaming. Dean had initiated the series of short, but sweet kisses before it turned into a full-blown makeout session. Castiel's stomach clenches at the thought.

Anyway. The picture is one of the many taken that night, and isn't even particularly romantic. It's just Cas, eyes squeezed shut and laughing as he put the infamous 'two-finger bunny ears' above Dean's tousled hair as Dean has his arm slung around Cas' shoulders. They both look unreasonably happy, given the state of their relationship at the moment. Castiel can't help but think that his ten-year-younger self couldn't possibly know how much happiness, love, and hurt the man beside him would put him through in the years to come.

"So this is your explanation?" Castiel finally asks, trying to steady his voice. He's breaking, he can feel it, and he knows he can't let himself. He has spent too much time and energy steeling himself against Dean, preventing his heart from sinking everytime someone calls him Dr. Winchester or wanting to cry each time he thinks about what once was. "You keep a picture of me in your wallet?"

"You're not understanding," Dean says, turning his entire body to face Castiel. "Jesus, I've forgotten how fucking stubborn you are. Cas, baby, I still love you."

Just like that, Castiel's heart stops. This...this is definitely not anything he's imagined. He hadn't prepared himself for that statement, especially not after learning what he learned the day before. "No." He shakes his head slowly, taking another drink from his beer. "No, you're not doing this."

"I didn't leave five years ago because I thought a life with Ben and Lisa would be better. I was trying to be responsible. I was stupid and in my twenties. I wanted to tell you, I really did, but I didn't want to hurt you. You were so excited about the pregnancy, so happy that you could make a family of your own. Our own. I didn't know how to tell you about Ben."

"So you leave in the middle of the goddamned night, nothing to say to me but what was written in that half-assed note? I'm sorry, don't loo-"

"I'm only marrying her because I have to," Dean interrupts. "There's not even going to be a ceremony. We're going down to city hall, signing our names on the certificate in front of a judge."

"What do you mean, you have to?"

"That's the only way the state will let me take real guardianship over Ben."

Castiel frowns, because that doesn't make any sense. "But you're his father. You've got parental rights."

"My name's not signed on the birth certificate, so I have no rights."

But still, Castiel could sense that something isn't quite right. His brother being a lawyer and him being a doctor, he knows enough about familial law to know that parents have a say over their child until either one of them revokes their rights. "But he's biologically yours, right? There shouldn't be a problem."

Dean, not understanding why they're stuck on the topic of the custody of Ben, simply replies with, "I never had a paternity test, remember? Lisa refused- she gets offended everytime I ask. The dates line up, he's mine."

Ah, there it is. There's the problem...the obvious problem that Dean fails to see. He's not even angry, just extremely disappointed. "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you telling me that, for the last five years, you've been fathering a child that you don't even one hundred percent know is yours?"

Dean turns pale, finally catching up to what Castiel is saying. "I'm sure he's mine."

"Are you? Because suddenly, I'm not. And you know what? Frankly, I don't think Lisa's sure he's yours either."

"Cas," Dean says, his voice more than a little wobbly, and Castiel realizes a second thing: this isn't about them anymore. It's not about Dean walking out five years ago, or Dean cheating eight years ago, or even Lisa. It's about Dean, thinking that he is the actually biological father to a little boy and realizing there is a very real chance he isn't. He had dumbly put his trust in a woman he had only briefly met, most likely because he was shocked- and maybe even a little excited, about being a father.

"Cas...?" Dean repeats. "What if he...what if Ben is not mine?" He looks up at Castiel and covers his mouth, his eyes wide. "Oh my god, I fucked up."

"Look." Castiel takes a deep breath and puts his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean is more than a little shocked at the touch but doesn't move away from it. "Even if he's not biologically yours, you're still his father. You've cared for him, loved him, lived with him..."

"I don't."

"What?"

"I don't live with them. I haven't for years, not since Lisa cheated on me. I see Ben once a month, every month."

That is not fathering. That is barely caring.

"Then why are you getting married?" Castiel removes his hand. "This entire situation, Dean...I honestly do not understand."

"It is more legality than love," he admits feebly and plays with the zipper on his jacket. "Without this marriage, I am literally nothing to Ben. Not family, nothing."

Castiel pauses to take a final drink from his bottle. "Dean, you need a paternity test."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Now, Dean. Go to Lisa, demand a paternity test."

He nods and abruptly stands, nearly knocking over his beer if Cas' hand hadn't shot out to catch it. Dean gives Castiel one, final look and presses his lips together. "I am so, so sorry Cas. I honestly cannot express that enough."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I know."

And as Dean leaves through the door and the bell rings as he goes, Castiel looks into his bottle, feeling just as empty as it is. Because he isn't angry anymore. He isn't sad, he isn't lonely, he isn't filled with the memories of what once was and the thoughts of what will never be. No, as he looks at the pictures of Dean and Castiel, and Lisa and Ben that Dean had accidentally left behind, he feels nothing. Because that was what he needed, right? Proper closure? But, it doesn't feel as good as he thought it would.

* * *

_**ten years before** _

Castiel had imagined medical school numerous times. He knew it would be hard, that it would be exhausting and filled with long, sleepless nights of studying impossible medical terms. But, what he didn't realize was that interning would be just as vigorous.

He'd been the top of his class at Columbia, of course, because he was studious and determined to become a surgeon. And because he was valedictorian, he was immediately inserted into an interning position at one of the best learning hospitals in the country, plainly named Lawrence Hospital, in East Kansas.

Cas had been working at the hospital as a paid intern for half a year now, trailing several surgeons in different fields (cardiovascular, neural, general, plastic, et cetera) with a group of interns at just about the same age and level of experience.

It is just about the end of Castiel's shift. He's tired, dirty, and wants nothing more than to go home to his scraggly apartment, take a nice shower, and eat takeout in bed. But sadly, 'just about' isn't the same thing as 'is' and he has an hour and a half left to clock in.

"Don't look so dull," Meg says, holding out her cup of coffee to Cas as he stares at his pager. Because not only does he have an hour and a half left, but he has nothing to do.

"Thanks." He takes the paper cup from the other girl and take a gulp before handing it back. Meg smiles and drinks the rest of it before throwing it into the garbage.

"Seriously, don't. I mean, at least you don't have paperwork duty in half an hour. You know what? Why won't you go to the ER, book in some hours there. Maybe you could snag a patient that needs a new face or something exciting like that."

Castiel doesn't understand how needing a new face could possibly be considered as 'exciting,' but he rarely understands Meg's darker sense of humor.

But, he did think her idea of going to the Emergency Room has some backing to it. Besides, he likes working in the ER; it was noisy, bustling, and full of surgical oppurtunity.

Once he gets to the ER, Castiel is immersed in the busyness and, right away, takes a clipboard from the front desk.

"Uh..." be mumbles from himself, taking a pen from his chest pocket and making his way to the bed the clipboard is assigned to. He's looking down most of the way, but still successfully maneuvers himself around gurneys, nurses, and EMTs. "Dean Winchester?" He says, finally reaching the bed, closing the curtain that separates the small area from the rest of the room, and looking up. If Castiel isn't so tired, he'd have noted how unbelievably handsome the other man is, from his tousled brown hair and beautiful green eyes to his chiseled jawline and toned arms.

But he is tired, so he doesn't. At least, not conciously.

"That's me," Dean Winchester replies with a wide grin, much too wide to be the recipient of the injury Castiel's clipboard says he has.

"My name is Dr. Novak-" Cas gestures idly to the silver name plate attached to his scrubs. "And I will be giving you your stitches. It says here that you were...shot?" He looks for any evidence of a gaping bullet wound and finds none. It doesn't even make sense that a gunshot would require stitches. Surgery, at the least.

"Yup," Dean says, turning his body so that Castiel could see what had happened. "It was stupid- my brother's a shit shot with a BB gun and grazed my arm."

Wow," Castiel thinks as he observes the long cut that split open the other man's bicep. He notes the details on the clipboard, including what had happened, where the injury occured, and the relative seriousness of it. He then rises and puts the clipboard on the pillow of the hospital bed. "So, it shouldn't be too long. I'll clean it, stitch it, and you'll be back to new."

Dean chuckles at that. "My hero," he says when Castiel turns his back to fish for a pair of gloves, gauze, alcohol, cotton balls, a needle, thread, and a roll of ace bandages. "I wouldn't be here if Sam- my brother- didn't overreact and call an ambulance."

Castiel raises an eyebrow, wondering how calling an ambulance when you shoot your brother could possibly be an overreaction. He sits on the bed to the right of Dean and slips on the latex gloves. "The paramedics are very helpful," he simply says in response to his confession. "Can I see your arm?"

Dean holds out his right arm and winces slightly as Castiel dabs an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on and around the wound. "Sure, but you know...I don't have any insurance. Never saw a need for it."

Cas looks up then to meet Dean's eyes. "You don't need insurance to get medical attention in an ER. You don't even have to be a citizen."

Perhaps the only reason Castiel even knows that is because he is constantly mentally saying it over and over again in order to prepare for his next exam. But, Dean finds a strange comfort in it and Cas feels his muscles loosen up.

"What's your name?" Dean asks as Cas pulls the black thread through the eye of the needle. At the question, Castiel freezes and accidentally drops what he is doing into his lap, more than slightly startled by it.

"Excuse me?" He clears his throat and picks up the needle to re-thread it. Once he has, he takes the needle in his right hand and, with his left thumb, he gently presses at the edge of the cut. Once again, Dean winces but it doesn't stop him from elaborating.

"Your name?"

"Why would you possibly want to know my name?"

Castiel lines up the tip of the needle with his thumb and pushes through the skin. He dabs at the new wound with a new alcohol cotton ball and awaits Dean's explanation.

"Because I like you."

Cas' cheeks burn a fiery red as he says that, and he is intensely aware of Dean looking down at him. However, Castiel makes a point of focusing on his stitches.

"You barely know me," Cas mutters. "I've said very little to you, most of which were about the cut in your arm. If this is about the stereotype that all doctors are rich and successful, trust me, you're barking up the wrong tree. I'm balls deep in student loans and I've been only working here for a couple of months..."

His voice trails off as he nears the middle of the cut. Dean doesn't seem to be affected by the pain anymore and, as Castiel dares himself to look up, he sees him smiling down at him.

"Jesus Christ, Dr. Novak, have you seen yourself lately? This is not about me wanting all of your money because trust me, I'm not that kind of person. So far, I know you're hot."

Castiel averts his gaze again and threads through skin to calm his nerves.

"Smart."

"Funny."

"And I want to know your name so I can take you out tonight."

Castiel coughs rather abruptly, and looks up at Dean again. "I couldn't. I've got studying, work, sleep."

Dean puts out his left index finger. "One night. What's your name?"

Castiel finishes up the sutures and dabs more alcohol over his handiwork. He thinks it over for seconds, but in a period of time that seems like years. What could it hurt? He hadn't been on a date since when? He started med school? Castiel thinks of what Meg would say: "Don't be such a prude, Clarence. I've known you for six months and if I'm sure of anything, it's that you desperately need to get laid."

He'd rather not think of what Meg would say.

"Castiel," he finally gives in and Dean raises his brow.

"Castiel. I like it."

"Thanks. My mother gave it to me."

Dean laughs and Castiel begins to wrap the ace bandage around his arm to cover the stitches.

"So, Castiel, there's this arcade right across the street. When does your shift end?"

Cas' eyes glance up to the clock above them. "Eight."

"Wanna meet there at eight-thirty? I'll pay since you're..." Dean's eyes flutter down for a half second. "Balls deep in student loans."

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

Castiel regrets it. He doesn't want to, but he does because it's probably one of the worst dates he's ever been on. And it's not Dean. No, Dean is lovely, but the arcade idea was terrible in itself. As someone in his mid-to-late twenties, he should've known that there is absolutely nothing he would find entertaining in a rundown arcade from the eighties.

As he and Dean engage in another round of air hockey, Dean reads his expression and stops the puck with his hand. "You're not having fun."

"Well, that's not-" Cas sighs and leans against the table. "Yeah, no, I'm not."

Dean chuckles and rounds the table to stand by Castiel. "Yeah, the whole arcade thing was a pretty shit idea."

Cas, not wanting Dean to feel bad, gently touches his forearm and shakes his head. "No. No, it was nice and...sort of thoughtful."

But Dean doesn't believe him (Castiel barely believes himself) and takes Cas' hand in his. "I'll make it up to you."

Without any sort of explanation or elaboration, he steers the two of them through rows of arcade games until they finally get to the back of the place, where a single photo booth stands.

"You want to take pictures?"

"Don't you?" He lightly pushes Cas to goad him in and, finally letting up, Castel climbs into the cramped space. Dean is next and, though it isn't the most comfortable of situations (nor the roomiest), Cas feels oddly contented.

They take stupid, silly photos for a while, Dean having to reach out every few minutes to feed the machine another dollar or two. But it suddenly gets more intimate, as hands that had been touching shoulders meet waists and after Dean turns his head to move a piece of hair that had fallen onto Cas' forehead, he leans in to give Castiel a chaste kiss on the lips.

And it's all uphill from there. Dean presses forward, placing more kisses trailing from Cas' mouth to his chin, and from his neck to his clavicle. Castiel moans, his hands roaming under Dean's shirt and trailing up his spine.

Seconds later, Dean's mouth finds his own again and they're kissing. Their bodies are being pressed together and breaths are mingling in those short moments when they come up for air. Dean clasps his hands in Cas' and he presses them both to the booth's wall behind him, momentarily incapacitating him. But Cas doesn't mind, as his kisses become more passionate and he moans louder.

Because, in that moment of bliss, Castiel knows none of it. Knows nothing of the cheating to happen two years later, the wedding three years later, the pregnancy five years later, and the blow-out a decade after this moment.

He doesn't even know if he'd ever see Dean Winchester again. But, once again, he doesn't mind. Because all he knows is that he's the happiest that he's been in a very long time.

* * *

 

_**eight years before** _

Castiel would have loved nothing more than to be able to go out with Dean to celebrate his acquisition of the garage he's worked at for several years. But, naturally, he can't because the final exam that would determine whether he'd go on as a neurosurgeon or spend another year as an intern trailing specialist surgeons is in the morning.

And instead of drinking his life away, Castiel desperately needs to study.

When Cas told Dean he couldn't go, though a little upset, Dean understood and gave him a kiss and a promise not to get too wasted so that he could help him study when he got back home. Castiel knows that there is a very off-chance that that would happen, but it's the thought that counts and Dean has been very thoughtful and supportful as Castiel tries to pay back loans and get to a place at the hospital where he can finally provide financial security for the both of them.

Passing this test would make all of that much easier.

His phone rings and he doesn't have to check the caller ID to know it's Meg. He flips the phone open and holds it to his ear.

"Hey, are you just as tired as I am?" He asks and hears a groan on the other end. Meg can fool around, Castiel knows that much, but he also knows that this end exam was just as stressful to her as it is to him.

"Are you kidding me? Don't get me wrong, I love orthopedic surgery and everything, but there are so many fucking types of bones in the human body and so many fucking types of surgery and so many fucking ways you can snap your fibula and tibia in half."

Castiel laughs softly. Meg had been mostly following behind Dr. West, the head orthopedic surgeon at Lawrence Hospital, just as he'd been studying Dr. Edman, the head neurosurgeon at the hospital.

"But I'm complaining," she continues. "While you have to take a five-hour exam on the nervous system. Good-fucking-luck."

"Why, thank you for those kind words of encouragement," Cas says sarcastically and looks at the time on the clock. 2:36 am. "If I stay up any longer, I'm not going to be able to take the test."

"I don't have a problem because I'm on my eighth cup of coffee and feeling great."

"Sure, you say that and Amber's cardiovascular test is going to consist of preventing you from dying from cardiac arrest."

"Oh, read 'em and weep, Clarence. At least I'll die knowing everything about each and every single one of the bones in the human body."

"You're a mess, Meg. Go to sleep."

"Yeah, whatever. Goodnight Castiel."

"'Night." He hangs up and pushes himself away from his desk. It's nearly three o'clock and Dean is still not back from the party, which means that he'll probably be too hungover in the morning to wish Castiel a good luck for his test.

Cas does feel more than a little guilty for having to miss the gathering. All of their friends, including Bobby and Sam, are there and Cas'd apologized several times for not being able to make it. But, Dean had understood- of course Dean had understood, and made Castiel promise they'd at least share a drink together the next day, after he passes his test.

As Castiel makes his way through the hallway of their apartment with a freshly-brewed mug of tea in hand, all he can think about is Dean, and how incredibly happy Dean makes him, and naturally the occassional fact about the pineal gland, but mostly Dean.

Cas props himself up on the left side of the bed and takes a sip from his cooling tea. He's relaxed, ultimately because of the security of his life at the moment. There's no better feeling than being able to say 'Yes, I've made my way through med school, am about to become a specialty surgeon, have an amazing boyfriend, and the most worrisome thing (besides the life-altering exam, of course) in my life is 'what will I eat for dinner tomorrow night?''

Cas must have been lying in his bed, half-awake and half-asleep, mentally going over anything else he may need to know or understand for the test, for an hour when he hears the front door open and slam shut. Castiel closes his eyes tightly and tries to actually go to sleep because he knows that if Dean caught him awake, he'd probably never get to sleep.

He listens to the small sounds Dean makes around the house: the opening of a cupboard, clanging of glasses, running of water. Footsteps down the hall, the opening of the bathroom door, more running water. Castiel pulls the duvet over his head as Dean finally open the bedroom door and slips inside. He can see the light turn on from under closed eyes and hears more shuffling.

"Cas?"

Castiel doesn't respond at first, just tries to steady his breathing so it could appear he was asleep. Dean doesn't sound drunk, which probably means he could wake up in the morning, congratulate him on his acquisition some more, and get some breakfast or something before the test at eleven.

"Cas? Baby, are you awake?"

Castiel then frowns because Dean's voice had cracked. He doesn't sound happy, like he should be after spending an entire night celebrating a big achievement, but he sounds as if he'd been crying. Slowly, Castiel lowers the cover to fit over his torso and frowns. Because he was right: Dean is a mess. His hair is tousled, his cheeks are blotched, his eyes are red and swollen, his clothes are...well, his clothes are wrinkled

"What happened?" Castiel asks, concerned, the worst of the worst flashing through his mind. He swallows hard and takes Dean's face in his hands. "What's wrong?"

But Dean shakes his head and leans away from his touch. He rises from his previous position, crouched in front of Cas' side of the bed, and back away. "Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, rubbing the palms of his hands together. "Cas, baby, I'm so, so sorry."

Dean starts rubbing at his eyes, looking raw and defenseless and Castiel sits up.

"Sorry for what?"

Dean just shakes his head. But Castiel is starting to get an idea of the situation, and all previous tranquility has disappeared.

"No Dean, sorry for what?"

Dean keeps dumbly shaking his head and his back meets the door. He slides down, his hand locked in his hair as he doesn't know how to expel his frustrations. Castiel, now positive of his thoughts, just stares at him coldly.

"Who was he?"

Dean looks up. "What?"

"Who, was, he?"

Dean swallows. "Not a he. Lisa. A she."

"Really?" Castiel is all sarcastic wonder as he violently throws the duvet off of him and stands up. "Got tired of fishing on this side of the sea, then?"

"Cas, you know that's not true."

"Do I?" He makes his way to the closet and opens the doors. "Then enlighten me, Dean. What in the hell could've happened between the time that you left and the time that you fucked this 'Lisa' for you to want to cheat?"

"She was there," Dean replies breathily as Castiel finds his old luggage bag he uses whenever he had to travel somewhere during med school. He zips it open and starts throwing things in. At Dean's words, Cas turns around in disbelief.

"Is that a joke?"

"No, Cas! I'm always there for you, through the shit you go through at the hopsital and what you have to do to get ahead. And when I finally achieve something, you can't be there for me?"

Castiel creases his brow, his eyes dulling as he becomes more furious with every passing second. "I am there for you, Dean. I am constantly there for you. I was there for you when your Dad died, I was there when your brother needed an alumni recommendation to do undergrad at Columbia, I paid three thousand dollars I barely had in repairs for your fucking car after it got completely totaled without batting an eye! I told you I couldn't go out and celebrate and party tonight, specifically tonight. I asked you if that was alright, I apologized a million times, I even suggested we throw something a little more formal here this weekend. And do you know what you told me?"

He doesn't answer and Castiel picks up his now-full luggage back and slings it over his shoulder. Dean isn't by the door anymore, he must have moved when Cas was by closet, so when Castiel passes by him he says, "You told me it was okay and no problem and that you understood."

Castiel disappears into the hallway and hears Dean's footsteps behind him. "Where are you going?" He asks, trying hard to keep up.

"I think I'm going to stay at Meg's for a while."

"You can't..." Dean's voice falters and the footsteps stop following. "Cas, I'm sorry. Can we at least talk about this?"

Castiel turns around as he reaches the door and looks at Dean, his jaw clenched. "Talk about what? You've already made your point painfully clear. I've been completely committed to you for two years, yet you still think that some girl at some bar can truly be the eighty to your hundred. Well, I'm sorry Dean. I'm sorry that I've wasted so much of your goddamned time, so I'll be taking my twenty percent and be back in the morning for the rest of my shit."

And he opens the door to leave before Dean is able to see the tears fall down his cheeks.

* * *

 

_**five years before** _

"Fiji was beautiful," Hannah remarks happily, solely smiling at Anna, her new wife, though she is supposed to be talking to Dean, Charlie, Gabriel, Sam, Jess, and Cas too. "Honestly, you guys should go there sometime."

Gabriel rolls his eyes and takes a drink from his glass of red wine. "Not all of us make Fiji money, sister. And I'm still thoroughly pissed that my invitation got 'lost in the mail.'" He makes quotation marks around the words, but even Gabe's snarky attitude can't upset the happy couple.

"We eloped, Gabriel, there was no invitation," Anna reminds him, taking a bite of the spaghetti Castiel had prepared earlier. "Cas and Dean, though admirable-" She pauses to raise her glass in their direction and the two smile back. "Jumped through so many loopholes to get married. Same-sex marriage is illegal in Kansas, so we got married in Vegas and flew out to Fiji."

It's true. Getting married, for Dean and Castiel, had been jarringly hard. Both Sam and Gabriel spent months bringing the case to judges outside of Kansas, and many denied their jurisdiction. But, finally a judge whose husband was also a minister, decided to marry them in Massachusettes and hold the ceremony back in Lawrence. God knows if it's even legal, but they don't question it at all.

"Well, I'm just glad you're happy," Castiel says, rolling his own wedding band around his left ring finger. It had become a habit, as if his subconcious checks if it's still there. Dean catches him at it sometimes and, though doing it never affects how he sees their relationship or his mood at the time, always takes his hands in his own and promises he'd always be there.

"Actually, Castiel," Anna begins again, in between bites of food. "Hannah and I were just talking. You and Dean should come and move to Overland Park. It's beautiful, with tons of space. Perfect for a baby-" She looks pointedly at Charlie, who turns a slight red and sips from her glass of water. "You guys would love it. And, there's a spot open for Chief of Neurosurgery at the hospital I work at. We could really use someone of your expertise."

But Cas is already shaking his head. "No, we couldn't. Dean has his garage, his family. He grew up here. It'd be fruitless to move from Lawrence."

"Actually, I think it would be healthy," Sam speaks up, his hand clasped in his wife's as he does. "We've lived in Lawrence for what? Just about thirty years now? A change of scenery would be nice."

Charlie, who'd been carefully eating through her spaghetti and drinking as much water as the doctor had advised, says, "I'd be fine with moving. My brother, Roy has a successful bar in Overland and I'm sure I could find work computing."

Then all attention turns to Dean, who would have the final say in the matter. Castiel never wants to pressure him into uprooting, though he'd have to admit that it would be better for the baby, because he knows his work and being able to see Sam every day brings him happiness to no end. A happiness that, despite everything, Cas knows he'd never be able to fulfill. It's like a twist on the infamous eighty-twenty rule: whether Cas is the eighty or the twenty percent in Dean's life, he'd always need the other half to really reach one hundred.

"I don't see why not," Dean mumbles out. "It's a good idea."

Not too soon later, Anna and Hannah say their goodbyes, saying that they had a long drive back to Overland. Then, Sam and Jess leave for their condo downtown, leaving Charlie, Castiel, and Dean in Cas' and Dean's apartment.

"Well, I guess I'd be going then," Charlie declares, beginning to put on her jacket. However, she's stopped by Cas, who puts a hand on her shoulder.

"No, it's too dark outside and it's been snowing. There's black ice on the roads and I don't want you getting into an accident." Charlie opens her mouth in protest and Castiel, already knowing what she's going to say, cuts her off again. "And no, it's not a male superiority thing because I'm sure that if you and your future wife are pregnant with a child, she'd be concerned, too."

Charlie presses her lips together and gives Cas a sly smile. "Touché, my friend. You know me all too well."

Castiel smiles warmly and gestures down the hall. "You still have some clothes from last time you slept over and there's the guest bedroom across from the bathroom. Make yourself at home."

Charlie nods and is on her way, two fingers up in the air as she goes. "Will do, Castiel."

And leaves Castiel and Dean to their devices. Dean is sitting atop a counter, a beer he must have found in the back of the fridge in hand, as he grins at Cas. He motions him over with a single finger and Castiel, with a cocked eyebrow, goes over and positions himself in between his husband's legs.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cas asks lowly, placing his hands on Dean's hips and moving them upward and under his shirt. Dean puts the beer down on the counter beside him and runs a single hand through Cas' hair.

"Because you're beautiful," he says with an infectious smile and Castiel laughs whole-heartedly.

"Oh, great," he says, still laughing.

"What?"

"Way to be fucking cheesy, Dean." His hands never leave Dean's waist and they start rubbing circles into his warm skin.

"Well, you're smiling so it must have worked," Dean replies simply and Castiel bites his lower lip.

"What must've worked?"

"You. Me. We've been married, what? Two years and I can still make you laugh at corny pick-up lines that were barely valid in high school."

"Mm." Castiel leans forward and places a long, deep kiss on the other man's lips. His hands stop moving and his thumbs press into Dean's sides to keep him into place. But, it's not like he's going anywhere, as he returns the kiss rather gratefully. When he pulls back, he notices that Dean's own hands had slipped into the waistband of his jeans and is gripping the band of his boxers tightly. "Charlie's here, Dean."

"So? Charlie's cool enough. She wouldn't mind a couple of...bumps in the night."

Castiel laughs, a noise that slowly turns into a moan as Dean kisses his neck. "At least let me wash the dishes."

"You want to do the dishes? Now? That can wait until morning."

* * *

Morning comes.

Castiel awakes in a slightly cold bed, in nothing but a pair of boxers he isn't even sure is his and an old Beatles t-shirt he'd thrown on to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Seeing that Dean is, in fact, out of bed, he groans and grapples for his phone on the bedside dresser.

9:52 AM

He has a shift at the hospital in two hours, so he gets up to find Dean and see if he wants to go out for breakfast.

Castiel washes up and brushes his teeth, pondering over whether or not to shave. He decides against it and figures he's good for another day or two. He then puts on the glasses he keeps by the sink and checks on Charlie. She's still sleeping, hand resting idly on her stomach over the purple duvet. Castiel can't help but find joy in the sight. For so long he'd thought about being a father and now? He's able to come to an easy agreement amongst two of the people he loves most and is able to parent a single child with them.

He's going to be alright.

Castiel then goes to the kitchen, whispering a light, "Dean," so as to not wake Charlie up. Getting no response and seeing no one in both the living room and kitchen, he raises an eyebrow in slight confusion, then remembers: he goes in to the garage every Saturday morning.

So, he brews a cup of coffee in their coffee maker and leans back against the counter as he takes short, hot sips. What does he have to do today? Work until three, they need milk at the grocery...oh! Call his mother to make sure she's doing alright. It'd be a short, awkward conversation seeing as they don't have the strongest nor best of relationships, but it's always necessary. In fact, Castiel hopes that, with the bringing in of a new member of the family, she'd want to grow out of her little hole in Jacksonville, Florida and visit her son, son-in-law, and soon-to-be grandchild sometimes.

10:19 AM

That's when he sees it.

A little, yellow Post-It note pinned to the fridge with a plain magnet that hadn't always been there. Castiel creases his brow, takes another sip from his coffee, and makes his way over to the refrigerator.

I'm sorry. Don't look for me.

-Dean

"What?" Castiel mutters, resting his black mug on the counter by the fridge. He takes the note into his hand and reads it over and over again, trying to make sense of it. "Dean?" Castiel calls out again, but louder this time, completely disregarding Charlie's sleep. "Dean!"

Minutes later, Charlie nearly runs out of her room, stopping in the kitchen to see Castiel picking up the landline by the microwave and punching in a phone number. "Cas, what's wrong?" She asks, wiping at her eyes. "Where's Dean?"

He turns to look at her and swallows hard. "I don't know," he replies, gesturing to the yellow sticky note he'd left on the counter and holding the phone's receiver to his ear. It rang thrice before a gruffy voice on the other end answers.

"Winchester Auto Shop, this is Adam," Adam Milligan answers.

"Adam, it's Castiel," Cas begins, but Adam cuts him off.

"Jesus Christ, Castiel, thank God. I was just about to call you. Is Dean there? He was supposed to be here two hours ago and I've got people from the state checking safety protocol."

"Dean's not there?"

"No. Wait- do you not know where he is, either?"

"Adam, I'm going to have to call you back."

"Casti-"

But Castiel hangs up, and never calls back.

Charlie, understanding the conversation from Castiel's end, looks up from the note with wide eyes. "Did you try Dean's cell?"

"Good idea." Castiel tries to steady his breathing as he enters Dean's phone number and waits for an answer. However, all he gets is a piercing beeping sound that indicates the disconnection of the line. Charlie hears it too, it being loud enough for anyone in the room to hear, and puts her hand to her mouth.

"I don't..." she begins, but her voice trails off for a lack of anything to say. "Sam. If anyone knows where Dean is, it'd be Sam."

At this point, they both have the general understanding of what's happening. But, either of them refuse to believe it. Because Dean wouldn't do that. Not Dean. Not ever.

Castiel calls Sam's house and it take several moments for anyone to answer the phone. He puts it on speaker though, so that Charlie (who seems just as worried as Cas is) can hear.

"Hello?" It's Jessica. Cas scratches at his neck and clears his throat.

"Hey, Jess, it's Cas. Is Sam there?"

"Oh, good morning Castiel! And yes, he's right here. Babe, Cas is on the line."

There is some shuffling before Sam finally gets a hold of the phone. "Hey Cas, what's up?"

"Sam, do you know where Dean is?"

There's a prolonged, rather suspicious silence that urges Castiel to repeat himself. "Sam, this is serious. He's not at work and he's not answering his cell. Do you know where he could-"

"I'm sorry Cas."

"What?" Castiel looks up at Charlie, who is staring at the phone hard. She has Castiel's black mug in hand and is sipping slowly.

"Castiel, he's gone."

Castiel's heart stops. Gone, he repeats in his head and has to take in a sharp breath to be able to speak again. "What do you mean? Is he...is Dean dead?"

"What? No, Cas, he's not dead. He told me about it earlier this week and I didn't pay him any mind. I didn't think he'd actually leave, not with you and him planning to raise a baby together."

"What did he tell you Sam?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Sam, I am his husband; I at least have a right to know-"

"And I'm his brother, and he doesn't want you to know. "

Castiel rakes a hand through his hair, trying to understand what Sam is telling him. He said that he didn't believe Dean would leave. Leave where? Apparently, Dean doesn't want him to know. It is so un-Dean-like. He always carried himself and lived his life with a sense of loyalty to himself and the people around him. It just didn't make any sense.

"Did he meet somebody else?" Castiel finally asks, rubbing at his nose. His glasses lift off of his face at the motion and falls to the ground, but he doesn't react to it. How could he, when something far more important is happening? Five years of his life is burning right before his eyes and he can do nothing about it.

"Cas..."

"No, I'm serious, Sam. Just a yes or no: did he meet someone else?"

"Yes...well, no. Not really. Castiel, it's complicated and I honestly can't tell you. I'm so, so sorry."

"Well then, when is he coming back?" He looks up again and Charlie's eyes are on him. He thinks her eyes are getting watery and her cheeks are redder than before, but he doesn't really know because he's falling apart himself. He's crumbling before her very eyes and it's not getting better.

"Cas, I don't think he is."

"Fuck Sam, don't tell me that."

"I'm trying to tell you the truth, Castiel. From what he told me, I don't think he is."

"And you can't tell me what he told you?"

"No."

"And Dean's too much of a...oh God, this is not happening."

"I'm sorry Castiel, I've got to go."

Before Cas has the chance to protest, the line goes dead and the receiver just sort of slips from his fingers. He stares at Charlie from across the kitchen, and she's definitely crying. The silent tears rolling down her cheeks are most likely going to be chopped up to 'baby hormones' by the girl later on, but the reason is clear. Castiel would cry himself, if he isn't so much in shock.

"He wouldn't do this," he says slowly, needing Charlie to nod her agreement. But, she shakes her head.

"I don't know, Castiel. I honestly don't know."

* * *

_**present day** _

"But Mommy, I don't want to wear shoes," Claire exclaims, crossing her arms in a huff. She is sitting on the couch with Charlie kneeling in front of her, holding out the flats to match the dress Claire has on. They are all dressed up, in fact. Charlie, in the best and only dress she has that doesn't make any references to Harry Potter or Star Trek. "Uncle Gabriel says shoes are for chumps."

Charlie looks up at Castiel, who is standing in front of the living room mirror, fixing his tie. She gives him a look that clearly reads, "Handle your brother."

"Well, Claire," Castiel then begins as he steps away from the mirror and faces the two of them. "You can't go outside without shoes on. How are you going to dance when they start playing music."

"Uncle Gabriel says me and Mommy aren't going to the dance because only one person can go and Daddy loves him more."

The dance, of course being the AIMA ceremony.

"I think we need to stop letting Uncle Gabriel talk to you," Castiel replies, shaking his head at his brother's tendencies. Claire just laughs and wiggles her toes in her mother's direction. Cas then makes his way over to his daughter and crouches down beside her. "If you don't put on your shoes, we won't be able to stop for FroYo before the ceremony."

Claire pouts, poking out her bottom lip and staring at her father with large eyes. "But I like FroYo!" She whines.

"Then you'd better let Mommy put on your shoes."

Claire immediately obeys and sits still as Charlie slides her feet into the flats. Once she's done, Claire hops off of the sofa and runs out of the living room, probably to play with something in her room until it's time to go. When the two of them are alone, Charlie rises from her position on the ground in front of the couch and stares at Castiel.

"What?" Castiel asks, fixing the cuffs of his suit jacket. Charlie walks closer to him, smoothing out the sides of her dress as she goes. He turns to face her and quirks an eyebrow. "Is everything alright?"

Then suddenly, her face breaks out into a wide grin and she nods her head, her short and curled red hair bouncing slightly. "Of course! While you and Dean were doing whatever you two were doing last night, Gilda came over."

"Really?" Cas turns back to the mirror, beginning to fix his hair, and deciding that it's fine and nothing will really 'fix' it, he looks back over to Charlie. "What happened?"

"We made up! She was really great about it and said she wanted to meet Claire. I said no of course, because I'd have to speak to you about it, but-"

"You know I like Gilda," Cas interrupts, and it's true. Gilda Fae is a real estate agent (who sold Castiel and Charlie the house, actually) who'd been flirting with Charlie whenever they saw each other for years until they finally realized they liked each other much more than just 'friends.' Gilda had been skeptical, however, of Charlie's relationship with Castiel and didn't understand how there'd been room in Charlie's life for Claire, Cas, and her. But, it had obviously been resolved, as Charlie's ear-to-ear grin is evidence of. "I don't mind her around Claire. Just as long as she doesn't make our daughter feel uncomfortable, it shouldn't be a problem."

Charlie lets out a long, happy sigh, and takes Castiel into an unexpecting, tight, yet heartfelt embrace. Since Castiel stands a few inches taller than her, he raises his arms to envelop her midriff and buries his face in her hair. "Jesus, I just couldn't find a better person to raise a child with," she mumbles into his suit jacket. Castiel chuckles at that.

"And you don't even love me," he replies. He feels Charlie shake her head against his chest.

"No, Castiel, I love you. I'm not in love with you, 'cause I don't swing that way, but I definitely love you." Cas feels his cheeks burn a bright red, his mind immediately drifting to the night before when Dean had said the same thing. It didn't mean the same, coming from Charlie's mouth, but they both sounded just as truthful. Charlie looks up then, peering up at Cas with suspicious eyes. "And your heartbeat just got ten-times faster. Once again hon, I don't swing that way."

"Way to ruin the moment." Castiel laughs it off as they disentangle from each other. Charlie runs a hand through hher hair to fix it back.

"Or were you just reminiscing about Dean telling you the same thing?"

Cas rubs at his chin and rolls his eyes, as if what Charlie is suggesting is completely preposterous. "Still ruining the moment."

"Unless," she begins again, following closely behind Cas as he makes his way to the front door to get his coat. "Unless you're not reminiscing and Dean did tell you he loves you. Like, last night?"

"Claire! Time to go!" Castiel yells out before directing his attention to Charlie. "Jesus, I get that you hack computers for a living but that doesn't give you permission to hack human brains."

"So I got it right then? Yes! I was wondering why you wouldn't talk about what happened between you and Dean. So...what happened? Did you two kiss? Oh God, please tell me you two kissed."

"No, we did not kiss," Cas says in a lower voice as he sees their daughter climbing down the stairs. "He explained himself, I listened, and it's over. We're over. Officially and for good."

Charlie's face falls. "So you two signed the papers, then?"

What papers? Castiel begins to think before realizing what he had forgotten. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. They hadn't even gotten to talk about the divorce papers. Dean began throwing around 'I love you's and they'd gotten caught up in his mess of the last five years.

"Uhm...no. But I'll just have Gabriel-"

"Ready!" Claire declares, already having her small blue trenchcoat on, covering the dress she's wearing underneath. Every season, when it's time to buy autumn jackets, she asks for a trenchcoat because of Castiel's fondness of them. Charlie, after pulling on her own jacket, reaches down to tie the belt of Claire's trenchcoat. "Are we still going for FroYo?"

Castiel smiles down at her, taking a deep breath and feeling contented. "Yeah, sweetie. We are."

* * *

"Charlie, Hannah, this is Fergus Crowley," Castiel introduces as he sees the two approaching him and his colleague. Charlie puts her hand out for him to shake and he promptly does, bue doesn't let go until he kissing the top of their hands.

"Nice to finally make your acquaintance," Charlie says, looking slightly surprised at his chivalry.

"And me, yours," Crowley replies, giving the same treatment to Hannah. "Both Anna and Castiel have talked loads about you."

"All good things, I hope," Hannah smiles warmly. "And there's a lot of buzz around your artificial brain. I don't really understand what anyone's saying, because my vocabulary doesn't really expand over five letters a word, but I do know that there's a lot of buzz."

"It should all be for Castiel. He's the real brains behind the project." Castiel knows that Crowley is only being this...kind because of how many important people in the medical world they're surrounded by. If it wasn't for that, he'd definitely accept the credit wholeheartedly.

Cas silently ejects himself from the conversation. His speech had been unflawed, and he'd recited it without a problem with Crowley by his side. Once it had been over, it received a standing ovation (especially when one of the patients that uses the artificial brain came up for recognition) and Castiel disappeared into a crowd of high-positioned doctors and businessmen. Many of them asked more, elaborating questions about the brain, some tried to give him positions at their own hospitals around the country, and others wanted to buy the patent to the invention. He'd said he would consider the positions (though it is highly unlikely he'd uproot both Charlie and Claire again simply to get another job when he has a perfectly fine one in Overland), and promptly turned down the offers to sell.

Since Claire is with the other children downstairs, in the daycare room, he decides it's a perfectly acceptable time to get a drink. Many people are dancing with their loved ones on the dance floor and others are making polite conversation. Cas doesn't seem very interested in either.

"A small glass of scotch," he tells one of the bartenders, sitting on a barstool.

The bartender he catches the attention of sends him a smile as he takes out a crystal glass and the bottle of alcohol. "You're the brain guy," he says in a thick British accent, only slightly similar to Crowley's, making conversation as he fills the cup with ice and begins to pour out the scotch.

"Sure, I mean, I hope there'd be a little more to me than that." The bartenders slides over the short glass. "It's Castiel."

"Well, Castiel, I'm Balthazar."

Cas presses his lips together in a small, toothless smile, before raising the glass to his mouth and taking a drink. "That's an...eccentric name."

Balthazar laughs. "Yeah, that's a nice way of putting it. More like fucking unfortunate. It's literally the name of one of the Wise Men. It's not really helpful to your dating life when you're named after an old man with a beard that was there when Jesus was born."

Castiel snorts. "Name or not, you don't look like you're a Wise Man. Well, I don't mean that you're not wise, I'm sure you are, but you don't look..." His voice travels off before he can continue rambling and he takes another long drink from his scotch as he realizes that Balthazar is staring rather intensely at him.

"You have...gorgeous eyes," he says, leaning forward and across the bar. Castiel, quickly catching up to his less-than-subtle advances, sucks in his cheeks and looks up to the ceiling. It's not like Balthazar is unattractive- he's definitely not, but it's not the night to flirt. Honestly, he'd like nothing more to go home, put his daughter to bed, and watch late-night reruns of Criminal Minds.

"Thanks," he says. "You, uh, you do too."

So that was definitely flirting.

"Thank you." He smiles brightly and Castiel smiles back, hoping his own grin conveyed notinterested notinterested notinterested.

"Hey Cas."

Castiel, who'd had emptied the ice into his mouth for lack of anything better to do, looks up in mild surprise. Then, the mild surprise turns to extreme surprise as the interrupter is, of course, Dean Winchester.

"Dean, what are you doing here?"

He realizes that Dean is wearing a black tuxedo. A very nice black tuxedo actually, complete with cufflinks and a bowtie. His hair is unusually neat (though Castiel wouldn't really know what 'usual' is because he hasn't really seen Dean in five years) and drawn back in a handsome quiff. Castiel also realizes that Dean has his hand extended toward him, obviously with the intent of being taken.

"Can we dance?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Balthazar has disappeared now, off to another customer that isn't tied down by personal drama.

"Come on, Castiel. I knew you for five years, remember? I know that you secretly love ballroom dancing."

"Oh my god," Cas mutters as Dean takes a hold of his hand and starts to tug. "Jesus Christ, Dean, not now."

But, though he is resisting, he likes it. He likes being around Dean again, he likes talking to Dean again, hell he likes the feel of Dean's hand against his. And he doesn't want to admit it. Of course Castiel doesn't want to admit it. He spent five fucking years getting over him, five years of Gabriel trying to get him to hate the Winchesters, five years of Charlie looking at him like he's some sort of fragile child that was left at the alter. But that isn't even the case is it? Dean left because he was trying to be responsible. And no, barely a single goddamned thing he did could be considered responsible, but it was done with the right intentions.

There he goes...he's melting. He knew it would happen, that he'd crumble once Dean somehow walks back into his life. The walls he spent so long building would come crashing down once he and Dean 'locks eyes' and realize all of the time they'd spent apart. Sure, it's a sappy-ass love story, but it is his and he doesn't know what he'd do without it.

Dean keep tugging at his arm and, finally, Castiel gives in and lets him drag him off of the stool and onto the dance floor with all of the other couples. There isn't a particularly romantic song playing, yet Castiel can feel his face heating up as Dean moves his fingers from his wrist and to his waist. At a complete loss as to where she should put his own hands, he also settles them on Dean's hips, lightly gripping the fabric of his tux's jacket.

"Lisa is mad at me."

Castiel raises his eyebrow. "Did you expect her not to be?"

Dean just chuckles and initiates the two-step dance. Left foot, right foot. "Are you mad at me?"

"No."

Dean pulls back a little to look at Cas' face. "Really? Not even like...a little?"

Castiel shrugs slightly. "I've never really been mad at you. Confused, sure. Gabriel wanted me to tell you to go fuck yourself."

Dean snorts. "Are you going to?"

"No."

They move in silence for a while, heads over shoulders. At one point, during the slight swaying and minimal moving, Castiel makes eye contact with Charlie. She raises her eyebrows with a smirk playing at her lips, only slightly surprised at seeing Dean and Castiel so close after all of these years. Cas rolls his eyes as sticks his tongue out at her. She does the same, and they go at it until, somehow, Cas' and Dean's 'dancing' turns them around.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean suddenly says, his breath tickling Castiel's ear. Castiel feels a chill run down his spine as it happens and has the slight impulse to pull away. But, he doesn't.

  
"I know. You've told me," is all he says, taking a deep breath. But, Dean shakes his head.

"But, I don't feel like I've said it enough." Dean moves his head from Castiel's shoulder and holds him at arm's length, trying to get a good read of his face. His hands have, whether consciously or not, slipped underneath Cas' suit jacket and are tickling his sides through the thin fabric of his white oxford. "I am a shit person."

"You're not. Well..." His faux rethinking of Dean's morality makes Dean's face quickly fall. But, Castiel's lips break out into a nearly-infectious grin. "I'm joking."

"So I see that your sense of humor hasn't improved. At all."

"Hey!" Castiel pinches Dean's side in retaliation, but Dean doesn't really react. He just laughs and rubs circles into Cas' sides with his fingers. He then leans forward so his lips are by Castiel's ear again.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Cas takes a sharp breath. "Yes. Please. Just, uh, let me tell Charlie so she doesn't worry."

"Meet you outside?"

"Of course."

Dean lets go of Castiel and gives him a small, but meaningful smile before he disappears into the crowd of dancing couples. Castiel makes his way toward Charlie, who's standing off to the side drinking a glass of white wine with Gabriel. As they see him approach, Charlie breaks out into a grin and Gabriel gives him a suspicious look.

"So this probably means I should scrap the Winchester dartboard?" Gabriel says, swirling his drink in his glass. Cas shakes his head in disbelief.

"And the sad thing is that I don't know if that's a joke or not," he replies before directing his attention to Charlie. "I'm stepping out for a second."

"Really?" Charlie asks, quirking her eyebrow. "Should Claire and I wait up?"

"Yes."

"Jesus, Cas, you don't have to blush like a twelve-year-old after his first kiss. Do I need your car keys are will you be coming back?"

"I'll be back," Castiel assures, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "We just need some air."

"I bet. It seemed to be getting pretty hot over there."

"Yeah, I wish I had your ability to just forgive and forget. I'd probably have a lot more friends." Gabriel sips from his drink.

"I have forgiven, but I'm not going to forget. It's not that easy. It's been too long and too much has happened. For all I know, we are two completely different people than who we were five years ago."

Charlie shrugs. "Well, Cas, hon I wish you the best and I meant what I said earlier. I am rooting for you and Dean."

"Thank you. I guess I am, too."

* * *

"I can't believe you still wear that beige trench coat." Dean laughs, his breath condensing in the cold Downtown night air as he sees Castiel exit the building. Cas puts his hands in his pockets and meets up with Dean in the middle of the sidewalk.

"I think it's more taupe than beige," he admits, looking down at his jacket. Dean just laughs again and they begin walking down the block. It's busy, of course, seeing as it's a Saturday night in the middle of downtown Overland, but it's also very nice. The lights are bright but not too bright and it's a nice atmosphere for the two to just walk and talk.

And God, do they talk. They talk about anything and everything, from reminiscing of their lives years before or memories from the time they haven't been together. And neither of them really mind as they come to a silent, yet mutual agreement that they miss each other and talking about what they lost, at the moment, isn't the most prevalent of topics they want to discuss.

Dean wants to know all about Claire and how it's like living as a father with Charlie. It's nice, Castiel says. After we moved to Overland Park right before Claire was born, everything sort of got brighter. Charlie loves the space, since she can have her own room to pile her books and make a workspace. Claire loves it when we take her out to the park down the street, by the cul-de-sac. There's an old, smallish amphitheater out there and she likes to stand on the stage and sing songs from her favorite cartoons, pretend she's a magician, or act as if she's presenting something in front of a million people. It makes me smile every time.

And Castiel wants to know about Dean's time spent, when we wasn't with Ben and Lisa. I met up with an old friend...Benny, his name was. He went to high school with me in Lawrence and owned this bar in Connecticut. I worked there for a while, tried my hand at serving and bartending.

Are you any good? Castiel asks as they cross the street.

I wasn't bad. And he kept me on for about four years, until I...uh...left for Kansas to find you and quit.

That's another question Castiel has. "How did you know where Charlie and I were? How'd you even guess we were still in Kansas?"

Dean shrugs and stuffs his hands into his front jean pockets. "I dunno. I guess I just sort of remembered the dinner we had with Sam, Jess, your sister and her wife, Gabriel, and Charlie, and remembered that it was suggested that we move to Overland Park because it'd be better for the baby. I was hoping you guys actually did."

Castiel nods, and puts out his hand to rest on Dean's arm, stopping him. "If we go any further, we're not going to be able to make it back before everyone has to leave the ceremony."

"You're right. We should probably head back, anyways. It's getting pretty cold out."

"Or we can just sit and talk some more." Castiel looks pointedly at the metal bench by the curb, that are usually more often than not around the city. He doesn't want the night to end, as stupid as it sounds, and would rather sit through the cold and talk to Dean than go back to the ceremony and make fake conversation with a bunch of people that just want to exploit and use him and Crowley.

They take a seat by each other on the empty bench and Castiel itches the back of his neck. "I miss this," Dean says, staring straight into Cas' eyes. The look soon becomes to much for him so he looks away. "Us."

"Me too," Castiel replies, his throat suddenly feeling dry. He also feels a sort of dizziness that he quickly chops up to alcohol, though he barely had any. "I was pretty broken up after you left."

Dean takes a breath and puts his hand up to rest on the side of Castiel's face. "I'm sorry."

"I know, Dean. I've forgiven you."

"But I haven't done anything to earn your forgiveness." And, suddenly, they're closer than ever; it seems like they're even closer than they were when they were practically pressed up against each other, dancing. Dean's hand never moves from Cas' cheek. "I'm sorry."

Castiel doesn't say anything, because he knows whatever he wants say, Dean isn't going to accept it. So instead, he closes his eyes and breathing in the cool night air.

"I'm sorry," Dean repeats and Castiel feels his breath tickling his lips. In an automatic response, Cas' lips part and finally, finally Dean's lips are on his.

It's a slow, slightly-awkward kiss at first, as if they've forgotten how to complete the fairly simple task. Castiel doesn't know what to do with his hands and Dean has moved both of his to pull Cas' face closer toward his. But, sooner than later, it all comes together. Castiel's hands go into the pockets of Dean's tux so that their hips press together. Dean moans into Cas' mouth and they kiss more enthusiastically, despite being in a completely public place.

"We should," Castiel begins, pulling back for only a second to convey his thought. "Go somewhere."

"Like a hotel?"

"Do you want to?"

"Hell fucking yes, I want to."

"Okay, I've, uhm, I've got to call Charlie to see if she can catch a ride with Hannah or Gabriel."

Dean leans back and puts out his hand for Castiel's phone. He hands it over, slightly confused. Dean goes through it a bit, before finally putting it to his ear. "Hello? Charlie, it's Dean. Cas? Oh, he's right here. He just wants to ask if you'd be fine driving home wi- What? Oh, okay then. Sure, I will. Miss you, too, Yeah, bye."

He hags up and gives the phone back to Cas.

"What was that about?" Castiel asks, furrowing his eyebrows. Dean jus shrugs as he stands.

"Just thought there'd be less to explain if Charlie heard it coming from my mouth. Do you realize how...er, enthusiastic she is?"

"I've lived with her for five years, known her for longer. Of course I do. But, I find it endearing." Castiel stands up too and they begin to walk again, most likely in the direction of a hotel. Castiel doesn't know and, honestly, he doesn't really care. He doesn't know what will come of him and Dean, or how they'll get past the tear in their relationship that has been the last five years, but he prays they will one way or the other.

He feels Dean's hand slip into his and grip it tightly. "I'm an idiot," he hears Dean tell him over the noise of all of the other conversations on the sidewalk. "You're going to have to deal with me saying that for the next decade or so."

Castiel just laughs and bumps his shoulder with Dean's. "You're not an idiot, per say. More like, you value family. Especially if they're...your family."

"You were my family."

"I was, wasn't I?" He chuckles. "What's that thing you used to tell me? That your Uncle Bobby used to say?"

Dean scrunches up his face, not knowing what Castiel is talking about at first, until he finally remembers the quote and smiles. "Family don't end with blood."

Castiel nods, contented, and lets out a long sigh. "You'd think blood would be the end of all things, but family tends to get you first. I don't know where I'd be without Gabe, or Hannah, or Claire, or Charlie. For a while after you left, I was just in a downwards spiral."

"So, basically, family will be the death of you?"

Cas shrugs before he finally says, "And the life of you."

* * *

_Lightly inspired by Panic! At The Disco's The End Of All Things_


End file.
